


A bang, then a whimper

by republic



Category: The Culture - Iain M. Banks
Genre: Action/Adventure, Knifeplay, Plot With Porn, Science Fiction, political rant thinly disguised as SF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-16
Updated: 2014-12-16
Packaged: 2018-03-01 19:34:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2785172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/republic/pseuds/republic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is my first-ever fic. Please be gentle :-)</p><p>Thanks to Diziet for spotting the obvious hole, and to rmc28 and molybdomantic for beta.</p></blockquote>





	A bang, then a whimper

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cordialcount](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cordialcount/gifts).



Diziet Sma gasped, feeling the knife blade slice into her flesh, and blood trickle down her thigh. She struggled against her bonds, but was firmly held in place. The inhibitor collar round her neck meant she couldn't even suppress the pain as she normally would. Tsel Iot brandished the knife in Sma's face, smearing the blood on her cheeks before slowly licking it off.

Iot squeezed the wound in Sma's thigh, and Diziet was briefly distracted by the thought that Iot looked damn hot in the ridiculous pink dress she was wearing. Iot slid her hand up Sma's leg, and Diziet moaned in pleasure.

Then the terminal in the corner of Sma's bedroom started chiming insistently. "What the fuck? I turned that damn thing off, Hub!" Diziet protested.

Tsel slammed her knife back down on the table. "Oh, come off it!"

"Ah, well, yes. Sorry about that." The Hub Mind that kept Chiark orbital functioning didn't sound terribly sincere. "The ROU _Sexy Dossier_ is passing though this volume and seems quite insistent that it's picking you up on the way past."

"What? Tell it to get stuffed", Diziet yelled, "Can't you see I'm busy? I'm not going anywhere, least of all on a damned ROU I've never heard of."

"I gather it's urgent; the GCU _Grey Area_ is trying to prevent genocide or something like that on Terraraq and needs someone with your special talents. The _Sexy Dossier_ was the nearest ship."

"Even by SC's standards, this is a crappy way to ask a favour, you know."

"Yes. I did tell the _Sexy Dossier_ that you were indisposed, but it's in a tearing hurry, and there's only a couple of hours' window to get a module here and back."

"It doesn't even want to slow down properly? Can this really not wait?"

"Sorry. If it helps, I will make sure Ms Iot is kept adequately entertained until you return."

Tsel pouted. "I only came to Chiark to get laid!"

"I'm sure you can manage that in my absence. Now could you untie me, please?"

90 minutes later, Diziet stepped into the module, where Skaffen-Amtiskaw was already hovering, its fields glowing a cross white. "Oh, this can _not_ be good," she muttered.

"Delighted to see you again, Ms Sma", the drone said icily. "I presume you'll be wanting those knife wounds seeing to. Strange choice of recreations you have."

"Don't be so small-minded, Skaffen-Amtiskaw,", Chiark's Hub Mind came from a small terminal in the module. "If Ms Sma were not in such a tearing hurry, I'd be delighted to help her out."

"Much obliged, I'm sure," said Diziet. "I don't suppose you've heard anything about this _Grey Area_ that so urgently wants my help?"

"I've not met the _Grey Area_ ", said the Hub, "and I see it's a relatively new GCU. Obviously does its homework!"

* * *

The _Sexy Dossier_ had not been carrying a human crew at all, and the rather spartan nature of the cabin it had prepared for Diziet suggested that it was one of those rare Culture ships that didn't much care for company. Its avatar was a black sphere about a foot across, and Sma had been on board for an hour or so before it put in an appearance, hovering at around head height in the entrance to her cabin.

"So, what's going on on Terraraq, and what am I expected to do about it?"

"The planet's been mined with AM bombs, and some lunatic is threatening to set them all off. The first agent we sent has vanished without a trace."

"That answers my first question."

"Oh, you're to talk to the maniac in question."

Diziet let that hang for a moment. "There's an entire GCU's worth of people nearby, and you're dragging me all that way to talk to a lunatic?"

"Think of it more as preventing gigadeathcrime."

"Yes, because the sort of person with the time and resources to assemble antimatter mines is just the type to be persuaded not to kill off the entire population with a quiet chat," Diziet said, crossly. "Why can't the _Grey Area_ just Displace them into the nearest star?"

"We don't know where they are --- local tech is pretty advanced, and they have a modified ultra-dense material for buildings that our effectors can't penetrate. Also, the mines are rigged so if you tamper with one, the others detonate as well."

"Delightful. So what you you expect me to do? Ask this loathsome individual some stupid questions and give them a good chance to gloat, and then ask them nicely not to be so evil?" Diziet sounded unconvinced.

"You have quite the reputation for being persuasive, so we are hoping you can put your diplomatic skills to use to either dissuade the self-styled Kyriarch from killing the planet, or to find out how the devices may be otherwise disabled."

"And if diplomacy fails? Presumably Skaffen-Amtiskaw is going to pull its briefcase trick, but I can't see that being over-much use against a maniac with AM mines."

"I suggest I take a back-up of your neural state before you leave."

* * *

Terraraq was in the middle of a hard winter, and Diziet shivered as she stepped out of the module. The Kyriarch's palace-fortress was a bleak ugly presence, an obsidian blot on a snow-white landscape. The feeble winter sunlight reflected off pointed towers, glinting on otherwise featureless black walls. Sma pulled her coat a little tighter, picked up Skaffen-Amtiskaw by its fake handle, and walked towards the main gateway.

"Well, this looks a cheery, welcoming place."

"Shut up, drone."

The gate guard was a little over seven feet tall, but despite that seemed alarmed by Sma's arrival; each of its four chitin-plated arms pointed a gun at her as she approached.

"Greetings," Diziet hoped she wasn't mangling the local language too badly, "I am Diziet Sma, envoy of the Culture, and I crave audience with the Kyriarch."

"You are expected. Follow me." The guard turned its head and then walked directly away from Diziet through the doorway, still keeping four weapons (and the eyes in the back of its head) trained on her. Although the briefing materials on the _Sexy Dossier_ had described the inhabitants' anatomy, Sma still found this somewhat unnerving. As they walked under the arch of the entrance, another almost-identical guard took the place of the one now leading Sma across a snow-covered courtyard. The environment inside was hardly less hostile; almost featureless corridors lit by feeble green lights in the ceiling, the same black material everywhere.

Near the centre of the building, the throne room's antechamber was windowless; a screen on one wall was convincing enough that Diziet concluded it probably did show the courtyard outside. Guards stood on either side of the double doors. Each carried a single rifle in two hands.

"You must leave your case outside." The guard that had lead Diziet thus far indicated a bench against the wall.

"Yes, yes, of course."

 _What? If those doors are made of the same material as the rest of this place, I won't be able to hear what's going on in there!_ Skaffen-Amtiskaw sent to Sma with a tight-beam, hoping it couldn't be overheard. She sighed, and set the drone down on the bench.

The double doors to the Kyriarch's chamber swung smoothly open, though the guards looked to be working hard as they hauled them open. After the spartan austerity of the rest of the palace-fortress, the Kyriarch's chambers were ostentatiously decorated. The insides of the double doors were covered in carvings that Diziet found hard to decipher precisely; in any case, they were clearly a series of battles and the unpleasantnesses that were inflicted upon the losing side.

The Kyriarch sat on a large and uncomfortable-looking obsidian throne; the surrounding walls were covered in hangings depicting further major battles. If Diziet understood the Kyriarch's facial expressions correctly, they were indicating amusement as she walked in. Diziet raised both arms slowly above her head, palms together.

"You have better manners than the previous alien who visited me." The Kyriarch's voice was booming and unpleasant, like the sound of nails sliding down a blackboard amplified. "I hope your species has learned its lesson. We welcome aliens to Terraraq, but only if they are prepared to learn our customs."

"I'll do my best."

"Good. It would be a shame to have to dismember another ambassador. I presume you are also here to try and persuade me not to use my fearsome engine of victory?"

"If by that you mean the series of mines buried beneath the planet's surface, then yes, I was rather hoping we could come to some arrangement that didn't involve the death of all the inhabitants of this world. We're odd like that in the Culture."

"I've heard about your Culture; surely you must respect the wishes of the inhabitants of Terraraq? They voted me into this position, and support our planetary defense system!"

"I'm sorry, I am clearly misinformed. I thought you were absolute ruler of Terraraq?"

"Of course, of course, my authority is beyond question. But I was originally elected to this position. You'd be amazed what people will do out of fear of you aliens."

"Us? The Culture has hardly had any contact with this world!"

"Certainly, but aliens have been visiting this world for some time now. It was a simple matter to manipulate the economy so the lesser orders began to suffer from imposed austerity, whilst the press were easy to persuade to run stories about how aliens with their strange technologies were coming here to make off with this planet's natural resources and subjugate the natives of Terraraq. An Affronter attempting to murder me provided the necessary impetus for a popular mandate for my absolute rule, and defensive systems so deadly that no-one will dare to attack Terraraq."

"Surely the population didn't vote for a weapon system that would kill them all?"

"Oh, but they did. After all, what better way to stop the aliens coming to Terraraq than to make it widely known that every living being on it might die at any moment? Of course, they expect I would only do it in response to some suitably apocalyptic alien threat. But nonetheless, only I know the whereabouts of all the mines, and the activation codes."

"Very impressive politics, and I'm sure the weapons themselves are technical marvels..."

"But you cannot appreciate my proposed use of weapons?"

"Well, yes. Even ignoring my bizarre Culture squeamishness about pointless death, I can't see what you stand to gain by annihilating the citizens who apparently voted you dictator for life."

"Power. I have absolute power over every life on this world, but that power is only meaningful if I am prepared to use it. You must understand that, coming from the Culture? You come and interfere in other worlds' business, because doing so gives you meaning. Your power would be worthless if you did not deploy it. I can die, soon, as my elderly body fails, against a dark background of obscurity, or I can die in a blaze of glory that will be forever remembered in a wave of energy spreading across the galaxy."

Diziet stood still, wondering if the Kyriarch had finished.

"Ah! This is just when your previous Culture assassin reached for his weapon. And you, who have come unarmed, what will you do now that you know your rhetoric cannot succeed? Enough idle talk. Since you are not going to try and kill me, let me show you the view from this throne room."

The Kyriarch rose, and walked towards a door in one of the side walls of the room. Diziet noticed that they walked slowly and with evident discomfort. She followed them to the door, and out onto a balcony outside that overlooked the palace and much of the surrounding landscape.

 _It's not looking good,_ Diziet used her neural lace and the transmitter in her earring to send to the orbiting _Sexy Dossier_ , trusting the ship would be monitoring the palace-fortress for signals from her. _The Kyriarch seems unable to differentiate glory and gigadeathcrime._

"Quite the view you have here." Diziet observed. "Are you sure you want to destroy all of this?"

"There's no point..." The Kyriarch stopped mid-sentence, their jaw hanging open slackly.

 _Ms Sma, it's the_ Grey Area _here. I suggest you make a hasty exit. Your Kyriarch is going to know that I know all their secrets, and will probably not be pleased._

_What? What did you do?_

_Now, Ms Sma._

Diziet transmitted the location of the front courtyard to the module, and ran back inside.

"...trying to persuade," The Kyriarch stopped again, and roared in anger, "How dare you! Guards!"

Diziet sprinted towards the main doors to the throne room. "Drone!", she yelled, as loudly as possible, "Open these doors! Now!". She hoped that while the doors were opaque to effectors, they might not be entirely soundproof.

The doors didn't move. She hammered on them, hearing the Kyriarch's slow tread behind her. She looked over her shoulder, but they didn't seem to be armed. The doors started to open, and a guard's gun barrel poked through.

Diziet ducked out of the way. "Drone, disable the guards, and get these doors opened. No casualties!" The doors swung open with a bang, knocking the stunned guards aside. She sprinted across the antechamber, towards the exit. Skaffen-Amtiskaw flew along beside her.

"What happened? That didn't sound very diplomatic."

"I don't know. The Kyriarch stopped mid-sentence, then the _Grey Area_ told me to run. The module will meet us in the front courtyard. Try not to kill anyone."

"You spoil all my fun."

"My heart bleeds. When we get outside, try and find out what's going on."

They fled as fast as Diziet could run, the drone using fields to slam soldiers senseless into the walls as they passed. After what felt like a kilometer of corridors, Diziet skidded outside onto the snow in the front courtyard. She kept her balance with some difficulty, and looked for the module. It swooped over the curtain wall in a hail of fire from several guard posts; as it came to a halt in front of Diziet and Skaffen-Amtiskaw, the drone's field turned a furious shade of white. The ground shook, and there was a low rumbling sound.

 _Diziet,_ Sexy Dossier _here. I've just displaced the AM mines into the system's star, based on co-ordinates from the_ Grey Area. _It's possible I took some surrounding infrastructure with them..._

The module swung up into the air, accelerating out into space.

"How did the _Grey Area_ know where all those mines were?" Diziet asked the drone.

"It sucked them out of the fucking Kyriarch's brain!" Skaffen-Amtiskaw's voice dripped with venom. "It just wanted you to get the Kyriarch outside so it could get its effectors into their brain. Just like that. _Meatfucker_!"

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first-ever fic. Please be gentle :-)
> 
> Thanks to Diziet for spotting the obvious hole, and to rmc28 and molybdomantic for beta.


End file.
